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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24886789">Null Device</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lieutenantruby/pseuds/Lieutenantruby'>Lieutenantruby</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>HLVRAI - Fandom, Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-Typical Violence, Existential Crisis, M/M, Post-Canon, Video Game Mechanics, this is meta as hell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:49:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,644</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24886789</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lieutenantruby/pseuds/Lieutenantruby</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Having defeated the final boss, Gordon is eager to go home to his normal life. The normal life he definitely had before Black Mesa...right? His thoughts are muddled, things don’t add up, and everyone else seems to know something he doesn’t. And that’s just before the world begins falling apart around him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Benrey &amp; Gordon Freeman, Benrey/Gordon Freeman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>267</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>HLVRAI</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Program Has Stopped Working</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I should preface this by saying that I debated for a LONG time if I should tag with the ship because my initial intent was to make this waaaay more shippy than it actually came out, so this is more like...enemies to friends. Super pre-relationship. </p><p>Anyway this is some really meta bullshit about how video games work and how that would work if characters were sentient. </p><p>Huge shoutout to the people in the discord who beta read this~</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gordon was tired. Tired in a way he had never felt before. Tired so far beyond the point of exhaustion that he almost felt alright. He could feel a dull throbbing creeping into the back of his head as the painkillers the HEV suit had provided started to work their way out of his system. It had taken all four of them to pull Gordon out of the suit, yet he almost found himself missing it. The comforting weight of the armor plating was no longer encasing him in safety; the slow drip of chemicals that kept him going was no more. His muscles grew heavier by the minute as he sat in Bubby's Cadillac--Gordon wasn't going to ask where it came from--and he wasn't sure he'd be able to get up when they got to his apartment. Gordon had invited the team to stay the night, since Bubby technically lived in Black Mesa, but they had declined, promising instead to come back in the morning. Tommy needed to feed Sunkist and Coomer had already taken in Bubby. Which just left Gordon. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>His muscles screamed in protest when he exited the car in front of his apartment. He waved goodbye to the rest of the Science Team and trudged up the single flight of stairs leading up to his apartment. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As he patted his pockets, fruitlessly looking for his keys, Gordon remembered leaving them in his locker. The same locker that was probably buried under tons of rubble by now. The same locker his passport had been in. His eyes fell on the little lockbox that hung on his door and he thanked whatever god there might be that his landlord required them to keep a spare in a combination box. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The lock clicked open quietly and the door gave way to the all too quiet apartment. It felt strange and foreign to Gordon. He hadn't been gone all that long, but he felt like he’d been to hell and back. He habitually ran a hand through his hair that could only loosely be classified as a ponytail anymore, and felt the crunch of dried blood and alien goo. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He sighed. Time for a real shower. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Gordon stood under the water until it ran cold. He alternated between scrubbing his hair in a desperate attempt to return it to some order and staring blankly into the tile wall. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As he turned off the shower, Gordon finally caught a prolonged glance at his right hand. Though he had been assured that the hand was in perfect condition, he thought he could see a thin line where it had been reattached--or, maybe recreated. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The insanity of the situation--that had been compartmentalized until now--came crashing down on Gordon all at once, the weight of the realization literally dropping him to the floor. Gordon sat on the floor of his shower, still dripping, as he tried desperately to make heads or tails of whatever had happened. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>With his head rapidly clearing, Gordon began to question if the hazy feeling he'd had in Black Mesa was really just an effect of the morphine--like he initially thought. At times, it felt like he was almost watching himself through fogged up glass, he was feeling and experiencing all the things that happened to him, and yet still felt one degree removed from his body. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He'd been himself…right?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Gordon tried to brush off these thoughts. Of course, he had been himself, who else could he have been? The drugs and stress were just messing with his perception of the world. He needed sleep. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Gordon peeled himself off the shower floor, grimacing as his wet skin unstuck itself from the tile. He toweled himself off and ran a comb through his unruly hair, glad that it was no longer crusted into a solid shape. He opted to ignore the pile of clothes that had been under the HEV suit. They were wrinkled and sweat-stained but not totally destroyed, since the suit caught the brunt of the damage, but the torn and bloody sleeve of his undershirt was too much to think about right now. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>His screaming muscles rejoiced as Gordon fell into his bed, clad in a fresh pair of sweatpants. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Gordon's last thought as he drifted off to sleep was that it was too damn quiet in his room. </p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>If pressed, Gordon wasn't sure he could tell someone how long he was asleep for. Occasionally he would wake up for half an hour and drink some water or use the bathroom but he kept coming right back to bed as days of running on fumes finally caught up with him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Gordon woke up with his heart racing when the doorbell politely informed him that he had a visitor. His hair was damp with sweat and unexplained anxiety bubbled in his chest. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He threw on a shirt in hopes of being somewhat presentable and answered his door. Tommy and Sunkist stood before him, looking no worse for wear and peppy as always. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Good morning Mr. Freeman! Sunkist wanted to visit and see if you wanted to go on a walk with us." </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Gordon rubbed his eyes, blinking at Tommy. "Uh, yeah I can come with. Give me a sec to put on some real pants and I'll be right there."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tommy seemed to take notice of Gordon's disheveled state. "Oh no, did we wake you up? It's three o'clock, I thought I was pretty safe."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Fuck me, it's that late?" </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tommy nodded. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Shit. Yeah why don't you come inside and I'll get ready."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Gordon motioned Tommy and his enormous dog inside before slipping into his room and changing out of his sleepwear. He brushed his teeth in the bathroom and pulled his hair back into a loose ponytail. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and stared down at the notifications that covered the screen. The oldest one was timestamped from Tuesday, though his phone's calendar claimed it to be Thursday. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Gordon glared at his phone and poked his head out of his room. "Hey uh, Tommy, this is gonna sound like a weird question but how long has it been since you saw me last?" </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Well, we dropped you off the day before yesterday and you didn’t pick up your phone so Sunkist and I wanted to make sure you were doing okay."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Gordon blinked hard, pushing up his glasses to run his eyes. "I'm pretty sure I've been asleep for more than twenty-four hours." His stomach rumbled as if confirming his suspicions. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tommy looked a little surprised. "We can get lunch if you want? I'm sure there's something good we can walk to." </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Yeah, that--that sounds nice."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They walked together to a deli near Gordon's apartment, ate, and then strolled around for a bit. Gordon's sore muscles protested at first and Sunkist had to prop him up once or twice, but the easy pace they set seemed to be doing him some good. </p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>When Gordon bid Tommy goodbye and returned to his apartment, it felt too quiet. He paced around the kitchen for a few minutes, half-heartedly putting away dishes that had been sitting on the counter. The mundanity of the task felt foreign and unnatural to Gordon, it felt like it had been years since he’d done the dishes last. The sparsely decorated apartment provided no distractions for Gordon to busy himself with; eventually, he gave up and turned on a mindless TV show, the noise of some game show host clearing some of the static from Gordon’s brain. Despite having slept for so long the day before, Gordon still found himself dozing off on the couch.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. File Not Found</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Darkness. Clingy, unsettling darkness covered Benrey’s form. It felt like, rather than just being the absence of light, the void was swallowing up anything it could reach, Benrey included. </p><p> </p><p>At first, it didn’t seem so bad. Benrey was no stranger to a little bit of void; at the worst, he was a little bored. </p><p> </p><p>And then something changed. It started in his fingertips and began creeping up his arms. Little by little, Benrey lost the little control he had over his limbs as liquid electricity crawled up his veins and burned away the feeling in his skin. The effect seemed to spiderweb slowly but persistently, with Benrey trying to wipe it off while he still had some control of his motor skills. </p><p> </p><p>When the paralysis hit his elbows, Benrey felt it start in his toes too. His chest felt tight. He did everything he could think of to try and move his hands, panic beginning to set in as he realized that none of his abilities were working and the numbness wasn’t stopping. </p><p> </p><p>As it neared his shoulders, Benrey suddenly couldn’t quite focus his eyes anymore. It was getting hard to think straight.</p><p> </p><p><em> well. this sucks. </em>Benrey managed one last coherent thought before he felt his willpower give out and he slipped into the nothingness. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>Gordon’s eyes peeled open, there was daylight streaming in through the window whose blinds he had neglected to close. He attempted to reach for his phone to check the time but found that he couldn’t move his arms. It felt like there was some enormous weight pinning Gordon to the mattress, crushing his chest and making it hard to breathe. He gasped out and strained to move his fingers, even an inch. Nothing. Panic began to rise in his throat. His cell phone began to vibrate on the nightstand it was resting on and abruptly, Gordon could move again. </p><p> </p><p>He shot upright, fingers digging into the blankets on his bed; his chest heaved as he gasped for breath. Gordon’s heartbeat hammered in his ears, drowning out the ringing and eventual silence of his phone. </p><p> </p><p>The black edges that had begun to creep into his peripheral vision ebbed away as Gordon managed to collect himself a bit. He gingerly picked up his phone and almost immediately launched it back into the air as it started buzzing again. Gordon played hot potato with his phone, juggling it between his hands and desperately trying to get a grip on it. </p><p> </p><p>Gordon finally grabbed onto the phone and jammed on the answer button without seeing the caller’s name. </p><p> </p><p>“GORDON.” Bubby’s voice came blaring through the receiver and Gordon flinched away from his phone.</p><p> </p><p>“AH christ! Bubby what the hell is going on? Is shit on fire?”</p><p> </p><p>“It might as well be! Get your ass outside.” Bubby hung up.</p><p> </p><p>Gordon let his phone flop onto the bed as he dragged a hand down his face in exasperation. </p><p> </p><p><em> At least that’s familiar, </em>he mused. Gordon tilted his head to the sides, hearing the vertebrae pop a little as he dragged himself out of bed and put on some clothes that could ostensibly be called presentable. </p><p> </p><p>Dr. Coomer was waiting in front of his door, hands clasped politely in front of him. </p><p> </p><p>“Hello, Gordon!”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Dr. Coomer. I’m assuming Bubby is with you? He sounded pissed on the phone.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh yes. We were on our way over here to invite you to brunch with us when we encountered something...most unusual.” Dr. Coomer wrung his hands and glanced off to the side. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, let’s go. Can’t be any weirder than the shit we’ve already seen, right?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Gordon blinked at the sight in front of him. He rubbed his eyes, then turned to Bubby who was standing next to him, arms crossed. The look on his face could only be described as equal parts pissed and confused. </p><p> </p><p>“What...am I looking at?” Gordon asked hesitantly. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, Gordon! It appears that this compact car of unidentifiable make and model has been firmly lodged in the trunk of this maple tree.”</p><p> </p><p>Sure enough, a compact car was intersecting with the tree, but not in any way that could be considered even remotely normal. The car looked like it had been phased into the tree about six feet up. Neither the car nor tree was damaged, and there were no signs of how the car might have gotten there. </p><p> </p><p>“Is this some kind of modern art or something? Are you guys fucking with me?” Gordon darted his eyes between Bubby and Coomer, some deep part of his mind praying that they were. He wanted one of them to slap him on the shoulder and tell him it was a prank. </p><p> </p><p>But they didn’t. </p><p> </p><p>Coomer glanced at Bubby who was still staring daggers at the car as if he might evaporate it with just his gaze. </p><p> </p><p>“I wish it were just an incomprehensible art piece, Gordon. Unfortunately, we watched the car materialize out of nowhere, phased into the tree.” </p><p> </p><p>“How do you think it happened?”</p><p> </p><p>“If we knew that, we wouldn’t have dragged your carcass out of bed to come look at it,” Bubby interjected. </p><p> </p><p>“Now Dr. Bubby, we were already on our way to visit our good friend Gordon when we encountered this anomaly. But since we’re here, I can’t think of anyone better to crack this case!” Coomer gave him a gentle but loaded look.</p><p> </p><p>Bubby grumbled and returned his focus to the car, stepping up and touching around the area where the tree trunk intersected with the passenger door. </p><p> </p><p>“What the hell are we supposed to do? We don’t have any equipment or anything to look at this thing. And for all we know, it might never happen again!” Gordon gestured widely at the street around them. </p><p> </p><p>As if spoken into reality, the air around a parked car began to ripple and a wrought iron bench appeared, stuck into the passenger side door.</p><p> </p><p>Gordon stared in silence at the bench. Coomer beamed at him, way too happy. </p><p> </p><p>“Gordon, we may be able to use the materials back at my Science Shack to improvise something to monitor these phenomena! Come along!” Coomer turned sharply on his heel and began to walk purposefully towards Bubby’s car. </p><p> </p><p><em> Science Shack? </em>Gordon mouthed to Bubby, hesitantly moving to follow after Coomer. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s his garage,” Bubby clarified. </p><p> </p><p>They headed back to Coomer’s house on the outskirts of the city, Bubby driving and Gordon relegated to the backseat. He fidgeted in his seat, trying to find a way to comfortably fold his legs in the seat that was so clearly not meant for people as tall as he was. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Bubby parked the Cadillac in the driveway, mumbling something about there being too much shit in the garage for him to properly park it. </p><p> </p><p>“Soda?” Coomer offered, crouching down next to the fridge. </p><p> </p><p>Gordon shook his head silently but then, realizing Coomer wasn’t looking at him, replied. “Ah, no thanks, I’m alright.”</p><p> </p><p>Without missing a beat, Coomer grabbed one of the sodas, popped the tab, and drained the entire thing in one go. He then stood and motioned for Gordon to follow him into the garage through a door near the kitchen. </p><p> </p><p>Inside the single car garage was an absolute clusterfuck of machines, parts, empty soda cans, and about four office chairs with wheels. Dr. Coomer walked with purpose, though, and made straight for a bulky looking computer that had two monitors stacked on top of each other. </p><p> </p><p>“Gordon, you’re welcome to have a seat in one of the chairs while we start warming up the science.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right…” Gordon slid into the only chair with armrests, the wheels sliding a bit as he did. “Is there a reason I came with you guys?  My theoretical physics degree isn’t exactly gonna do us much good.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re a member of the science team, Gordon! And you don’t fuck with the science team!”</p><p> </p><p>Bubby gave a nearly imperceptible nod before he started sifting through the piles of loose machinery. </p><p> </p><p>Gordon watched as the two men worked in perfect synchronicity together, occasionally swapping jobs or asking the other’s opinion on some component. He tried to stay focused and follow their progress but Gordon found himself slumping lower and lower into the chair, eventually letting his head fall back like a dad in an armchair after a big meal. His eyes drifted closed to the weirdly comforting sounds of clanging metal and Bubby threatening to light things on fire. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Why yes, I did post the first two chapters at once because nothing happened in the first one and I didn't want to change the chapter breaks. Next chap will be up in a few days probably</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Unknown Command</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The world around Gordon felt equal parts real and fake. The feeling of humid air on his skin and brimstone burning in his nose felt sharp and clear, yet his head felt like it was full of cotton. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A thin, red liquid swirled around his ankles, not quite water and not quite blood. The walls around him were web-like and gooey looking. Green lightning and orbs of every color flashed around the room, making it difficult to concentrate on anything. A spray of projectiles peppered against his stomach and his gaze shot down to the figures that darted around his legs. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He watched as they fired round after round of bullets at him; one of them even sprung up at him, rocketing just over his shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Though the bullets and attacks stung as they pierced through his body, it wasn’t enough to drown out the overwhelming feeling of sadness mixed with resigned acceptance that filled his head. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This was the only outcome</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought to himself. He kicked some of the red liquid at the group, pushing them back and halting the barrage of bullets for just a moment. Normally, he might have started to heal in the brief respite but something that he could only assume was a deep exhaustion had settled into his body; his movements were sluggish. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In a white flash of light, one of the figures below him changed, seemingly getting larger. He didn’t have time to process the change however, because the figure then flung itself at him, ripping into him with surprising ferocity. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He felt his body begin to tear apart. His limbs bent in unnatural angles, shifting and morphing their shape to something utterly inhuman. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Almost the end now.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Through the flashing lights and streams of orbs, he caught a brief glance of one of the figures rocketing straight up into the air and plummeting back down with a purpose. He had no time to think, let alone react before the figure slammed into him from above, a red-hot weapon burning through his back. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He finally collapsed, face down in the mystery liquid. As overwhelming fatigue began to settle in, Gordon managed to lift his head one last time and found himself staring into his own face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His face was splattered with blood--only some of it his--and the strands of hair that had escaped the ponytail were plastered to his face. Gordon felt some piece of his heart break at seeing the look on his face. His lip was curled upward in a snarl, brows furrowed, and eyes flashing with anger. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Emotions crashed over Gordon, unbidden. They didn’t make any sense, it was a million things all at once. Too many conflicting feelings that had no business being felt at the same time but hurt anyway.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The look of hatred on his own face especially stung more than every bullet and attack combined. The fierce determination to wipe his opponent from the world was almost too much to bear. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The lightning around him intensified, as he began floating upwards toward the ceiling, away from the people he called friends. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh well. At least it’s over. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A flash of intense light burned into his eyes and Gordon sat bolt upright in the chair he’d fallen asleep in. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He desperately grabbed onto the arms of the chair to keep himself from leaping clear out of it and onto the floor. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The door to the house swung open abruptly with a loud bang and Gordon launched himself like a startled cat onto the floor anyway. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mr. Freeman, are you okay?” Tommy closed the door behind him with a bit less force and looked down at Gordon, who was on his hands and knees, breathing like he’d just run a marathon. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon held up a finger, still catching his breath.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, hello Gordon! Did you have a nice nap?” Coomer called over from where he was crouched next to Bubby</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He just wheezed in response. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy seemed to remember what he was doing. “Dr. Coomer! Something weird happened! I was at the park with Sunkist and a uh-- portal just popped up on a tree!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh dear. We saw some items behaving very unusually earlier today, I wonder if they are related.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bubby tapped away at the keyboard and squinted at the screen before swiveling to the rest of the party. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“These readings are pretty fucked. Tommy, what did that portal look like?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was black and green like the ones we saw on the alien world.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We seem to be experiencing some kind of dimensional interference.” Bubby turned back around and continued to glare at the screens. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon regained his composure, sitting back on his heels but not getting back into the chair. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You guys don’t suppose that Benrey might have something to do with this...do you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We already defeated him though, Gordon,” Coomer piped up. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah but...I just had a really weird dream.” Gordon licked his lips and avoided looking at the rest of the group. “It was that final battle with him but I was him. Or I was seeing the things he saw? I’m not sure. But in the dream I was kinda torn up about it. Like this weird fuckin...resignation mixed with sadness. It was weird. And I saw us! I saw us kill him and then I woke up.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes we saw. You jumped out of that chair like it bit you, it was very impressive,” Coomer said. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Doesn’t matter. The point being that this timing is too weird to be a coincidence.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Perhaps you have guilt weighing on your conscience, Gordon.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What the fuck would I have to be guilty about?! Killing someone who got my hand cut off then tried to kill me? In fact, he tried to kill all of us.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The group was silent for a few seconds, save for the aggressive tapping of Bubby’s fingers on the keyboard. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What if we tried going into one of the portals?” Tommy offered. “Maybe they go somewhere important.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We should go back to the alien world! Maybe there’s clues there,” Coomer added.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You guys can’t be serious.” Gordon shoved his glasses on top of his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “We literally just got out of that hellscape and you want to go </span>
  <em>
    <span>back</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you suggest we do? Just wait till buildings start to fucking explode before we do anything?” Bubby glared at Gordon. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon shifted awkwardly on the floor where he was still sitting. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s what I thought, genius.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We should try out the portals. Nothing ventured, nothing gained after all!” Dr. Coomer suggested. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The rest of the team exchanged looks and, finding no logical objections, nodded and murmured in agreement. Tommy extended a hand to Gordon, finally pulling him up off the floor. He rested a hand on Tommy’s shoulder as a silent gesture of appreciation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No time like the present, eh gentlemen?” Coomer thrust his arm into a pile of loose machines, pulled a shotgun from the mess, and cocked it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon opened his mouth to comment, thought better of it, and just took a deep breath instead. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Where are we going to find a portal?” Tommy asked. “I just saw the one earlier.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We can drive around and look. That’s how we saw the fuckery earlier.” Bubby produced the Cadillac keys from his pocket and jingled them enticingly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And so, Gordon ended up crammed in the backseat again, except Tommy had taken shotgun--his right as the tallest-- and Coomer was almost pressed up against the car window, keeping a lookout for portals. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Though he knew he should have been looking for anomalies, Gordon found his mind wandering. The dream he had still lingered in his mind, the image of his own face distorted with hatred still fresh. There was something profoundly unsettling about seeing himself like that. It wasn’t like seeing his reflection, because when was someone ever in front of a mirror, watching themself in combat. And the feelings that had crashed over him like a wave. Some weird, potent cocktail of a thousand things that didn’t make any sense in combination with each other. He wondered if he really had been experiencing Benrey’s point of view or if he was just a lot more fucked up in the head than he thought. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before his line of thinking could get too out of hand, Dr. Coomer launched himself across the backseat, sandwiching Gordon up against the car door.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, Gordon, portals!” He put his hands on Gordon’s cheeks and swiveled his head towards a glimmering black and green portal. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bubby wrenched the wheel around, squishing Coomer even more into Gordon's personal space. Bubby pulled the Cadillac into a surprisingly perfect parallel park; Gordon wondered if he could learn how to do that. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They all exited the car, Bubby being sure to lock it behind them, and stood in front of the rectangle of an interdimensional void that had manifested on the side of a Wendy’s. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So, we’re really leaping into this mystery portal on the off chance it takes us to someone who is supposed to be dead?” Gordon glanced around the group, hoping to see any signs of trepidation on their faces. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He found none. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dr. Coomer looked raring to go, feet in a fighting stance and fists raised. Bubby fiddled with the shotgun he had evidently confiscated from Coomer, and Tommy just had a look of quiet determination. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s get a move on before we get peeled apart!” Coomer scooped up Bubby--who yelped in surprise--in a bridal style carry and leaped through the portal with an enthusiastic shout. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy put a hand on Gordon’s shoulder before he could jump through. He took a deep breath and looked at Gordon with a surprisingly sad expression. “Mr. Freeman, I know you don’t like Benrey but he-he-he’s really not that bad, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Right. I’ll...keep that in mind,” Gordon replied with a sigh. “Let’s go, man.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They both turned in unison and stepped through the portal. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As he tumbled through space, Gordon felt like he was drowning and riding a rollercoaster at the same time. The breath was squeezed out of his lungs and his heart alternated between jumping into his throat and threatening to fall out his ass. After falling for what seemed like an eternity, Gordon finally stumbled out the other side of the portal, barely stopping before he could face plant into Bubby. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my god, get it together.” Bubby turned and narrowed his eyes at Gordon. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They took inventory of where the portal had spit them out. The science team was standing in the Black Mesa parking lot, presumably. The chain link fence and security towers were still standing, but it looked like the front entrance had been mostly caved in. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, if we make it into the actual facility, do you think my keys are still in there?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“They probably despawned already, Gordon,” Coomer replied, beginning to poke around for more portals. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“...What?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, Gordon, portals!” Coomer grabbed a minivan by the back bumper and casually tossed it out of the way, revealing another gateway on the pavement.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Failed to Compile</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gordon's loose grip on sanity continues to slip</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The team dipped into the portal, the disorienting feeling only amplified by the way that they had fallen down into the doorway and were spit out of a wall on the other side. They stood in the anti-mass spectrometer control room, just before the airlock.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They looked around at the pristine room: no broken glass, no blood, no bodies. The fluorescent lights above hummed quietly. Gordon rubbed his arm nervously, the soft fabric of his sweater hiding the goosebumps he was sure were there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What uh…” Gordon’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat, “What the hell happened here? Why is it cleaned up?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The team stared at the perfectly undisturbed room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tommy, do you think your dad could have done this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh, it’s possible I guess, Mr. Freeman. I don’t really know much about him…” Tommy scrunched up his face in half of a frown. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess it doesn’t matter. Just...just be on the lookout. And nobody” --he made direct eye contact with each of his companions-- “touches the machine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Coomer gave an enthusiastic thumbs up, Bubby mumbled some vague confirmation, and Tommy gave Gordon a gentle smile. They all split off to look for their next portal. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon was standing in front of the airlock door, hesitant hand outstretched to the scanner, when he heard a crash behind him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He whirled around to see Bubby standing in front of the same set of machines he had broken on the incident day; they were sparking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wasn’t me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right, I’m sure they just magically--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey! A portal!” Bubby cut him off and pointed to the inside of the server room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon pinched the bridge of his nose.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bubby stepped to the side, allowing Coomer to punch a larger hole in the wall of electronics. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He caught a glimpse of Gordon’s exasperated expression and gave a shrug as if to say ‘we needed to go in there anyway’. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon followed his team through the portal. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was Black Mesa always this much of a labyrinth? You’d think for a company full of fuckin’ engineers, we’d have thought about the floor plan a little harder,” Gordon commented as they walked past the same circuit breaker for the third time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This place is oooooold, Gordon,” Bubby replied, as if that explained everything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right, because that definitely explains the rooms that are connected by nothing but canals of sewer water.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe they just needed somewhere to put the sewer water!” Coomer chimed in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so that must be the case for the literal tons of radioactive waste, then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Correct!” Dr. Coomer beamed at Gordon, like he was proud of him for figuring out a puzzle. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Gordon had taken the lead without really thinking about it. It felt natural, somehow. Everything was going fine--they were starting to get really good at the portalling--until the sound of scrabbling claws and clanking metal came from the air ducts above them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They froze. Gordon looked up at the duct just in time for it to crash down in front of him and a small horde of headcrabs to scramble out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instinctively, he lifted his right arm to fire his gun.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A second too late, he realized his mistake. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One of the crabs launched itself at him, digging sharp legs and even sharper teeth into his shoulder and sending him careening back into a wall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon stifled a scream as he desperately tried to get his hands around the little monstrosity. Tommy rushed forward and helped pull at the crab’s legs, dislodging them. Gordon distantly registered the sounds of gunfire as Tommy tossed the beast away from Gordon and Coomer finished it off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon slumped back against the wall, crumpling into a heap on the floor. He grabbed at his shoulder, vision starting to go black around the edges as he forgot how to breathe normally. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Freeman! Are you ok?” Tommy’s voice sounded muffled, like it was coming from behind a steel door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blood seeped through Gordon’s sweater, staining his fingers red. His sweater. Not the HEV suit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How could I be so stupid? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Gordon thought. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Freeman, it’s alright. We’re safe now. You just have to breathe.” Tommy pried Gordon’s fingers off his shoulder, replacing them with some kind of cloth and his own hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon could hear Tommy breathing deeply next to him, as if trying to set an example. He tried his best to match Tommy’s rhythm. His vision started to clear. He blinked a few times before looking up to meet Tommy’s concerned gaze. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m...I’m alright, I think. Got a little cocky there. Forgot...that I’m fragile now without the suit.” Gordon motioned as if to take over on applying pressure to his shoulder, but Tommy didn’t budge. His hand flopped to his side in resignation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Coomer came jogging back to the group--Gordon hadn’t registered his absence--carrying gauze and a little brown bottle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look, Gordon! I found a medkit to help with wounds!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Dr. Coomer,” he huffed, chuckling a little. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon batted Tommy’s hands away with a mumble of reassurance that he was alright and shrugged out of his sweatshirt so they could clean his shoulder. He took the gauze and the disinfectant and began swiping at the puncture holes, hissing a little as the disinfectant touched them. Luckily, once the blood had been wiped away, the wound itself wasn’t too bad. Tommy still insisted on putting bandages on them, however. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shoulder patched up and partial panic attack suppressed, Gordon accepted Bubby’s help to get off the floor, tied his now bloodstained sweatshirt around his waist, and insisted that the group keep going. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>They had been through several more portal trips through the bowels of Black Mesa before the science team found themselves on the red cliffs surrounding the facility. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You think we could sit down for a sec?” Gordon huffed. This trek was a lot harder when you weren’t hyped up on morphine and adrenaline. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What, are you winded already?” Bubby eyed Gordon skeptically.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe. What of it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fair enough.” Bubby almost immediately plopped himself down on the ground and the rest of the team followed suit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon did a quick check of his shoulder, catching a glimpse of his outfit as he did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus. I look like someone’s mom at Disneyworld.” He motioned to his tank top and the sweater tied around his waist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You look beautiful, Gordon.” Coomer beamed at him and Gordon couldn’t help but laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, oh! We should go to, uh-a-a theme park when we’re done, Mr. Freeman!” Tommy leaned towards Gordon excitedly. “We can have a vacation!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Heh, yeah we could. God knows we’ve earned some time off by now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Tommy leaned back, satisfied with Gordon’s answer, a brief thought wormed its way into Gordon’s mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Could they even go anywhere, let alone a theme park? Dr. Coomer had said there was nothing past the mountaintops, yet they had gone to the Chuck-E-Cheese, and then back to their own homes. If the world really did exist outside Black Mesa, then what had Coomer seen? Gordon frowned a little, turning away from the group and looking at the sky in hopes of keeping his thoughts to himself. He had never had a great poker face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His head felt clearer as they trekked through the facility for the second time; though trying to remember some details of their original escapade was met with brain fog. Certain things stood out, sure. Gordon remembered getting jumped by the military when Benrey had backstabbed him. He remembered the tram ride into work as well, weirdly enough. Everything else was obscured in varying levels of haze. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon tried to banish the difficult questions from his mind before he blew a gasket. There’d be time for an existential crisis later, he figured. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After about twenty minutes of sitting still, Bubby started to get antsy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Alright, let’s goooooo.” He crossed his arms and stared down expectantly at the rest of the group.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Got somewhere to be, Bubby?” Gordon asked, standing and brushing off his pants anyway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The sooner we get this show on the road, the sooner we can go home.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon couldn’t refute that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They scootched down the world’s most narrow ledge--really not helping Gordon’s general anxiety--towards the next large outcropping in hopes that a portal would appear for them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, around where they had encountered the Helicopter Heap, another black and green portal rippled on the wall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon watched the team dip through the portal, his dad instincts compelling him to ensure everyone had made it through. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he went to follow, however, Gordon walked straight into the carved stone wall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He staggered backwards, rubbing his face. He blinked his eyes hard a few times, confirming that the portal had, in fact, ceased to exist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Motherfucker. Go figure I’d get separated again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He glared at the space where it had been, anger rising in his throat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Awful </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuckin’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>convenient that it closed on me, huh? I bet you did this on purpose, you stupid son of a bitch!” Gordon wasn’t sure if he was blaming Benrey or god, but he didn’t figure it mattered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He ran a hand through his hair, pulling some of it out of the ponytail. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck it. Nowhere to go but forward, I guess.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he kept up the hike, mirroring the path he had taken through the facility what seemed like ages ago. His hand felt empty and he felt very exposed with neither a weapon nor HEV suit to protect himself. He kept a sharp eye out for aliens. They’d only encountered two more after the headcrab incident but he decided it never hurt to be vigilant. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, vigilance only got him so far as a portal opened directly under his feet and sent him careening into the break room at the very beginning of Black Mesa. He fell out of a wall, not quite fast enough to prevent the tumble to the tile floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuuuuuuuuck.” He righted himself, rubbing the elbow he had landed on. He glanced around the empty room, quiet except for the mechanical hum of the vending machines. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bet you think this is reaaaal funny, huh? We’re all gonna have a good laugh at Gordon since he’s the clown, right?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hefted himself off the ground and weighed the merit of punching a vending machine. On the one hand, it might give him a soda. On the other hand, he’d likely break his fingers. Once again, he lamented the loss of the HEV suit. If there was anything Black Mesa had managed to get right in their laundry list of mistakes, the HEV suit was it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon poked his head out into the hall. The locker room was pretty close to the breakroom, he remembered. Without a better idea, Gordon left the unexploded breakroom microwave and walked to the lockers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Inside the locker room was pristine, just like everything else seemed to be. Gordon’s eyes lingered on his own locker and he paused for a moment. The mere thought of passports turned his stomach, but he had to know. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He opened the door, flinching away for some reason. But there was nothing unusual about it. A few books, his diploma, and a spare coat sat inside, as well as the picture of his son. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon froze. His son? He had a son, didn’t he? Gordon remembered telling his companions about his baby boy, Joshua, but when he tried to think more about it, static filled his brain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he had a son, where was he? Was Gordon divorced, widowed? Who had the baby if Gordon hadn’t seen him? Questions with no answers rushed forward in his mind as Gordon tried to steady his breathing to ward off the tightening in his chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I really don’t have time for a mental breakdown right now, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he reasoned. He took a few more deep breaths and, anxiety firmly compartmentalized, pressed on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he rounded the corner where the HEV suits were stored, he saw an inky portal shimmering in their place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck it. Keep on trucking, I guess.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“-f your intended destination is a high-security area beyond Sector C, you will need to return to the Central Transit Hub in Area 9 and board a high security train. If you have not yet submitted your identity to the retinal clearance system, you must report to Black Mesa Personnel for processing before you will be permitted into the high security branch of the transit system.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tinny loudspeaker in the Black Mesa tram droned on as the portal closed behind Gordon and he got his bearings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, Gordon. So, we </span>
  <em>
    <span>were </span>
  </em>
  <span>making forward progress with the team but now we’re going backwards? What could this mean--connect the dots here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon was so lost in his own mental calculations that he almost missed the tram pulling into the station. He looked up, a little surprised, and disembarked, realizing as he approached the huge metal door that he was almost certainly locked out, as the door needed a security guard to open it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he bent down to inspect the scanner, the loudspeaker overhead crackled to life. “GORDON FREEMAN. PASSPORT VIOLATION DETECTED.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve gotta be FUCKING kidding me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stepped away from the scanner, anger starting to build in his throat again. He paced around the platform, uselessly kicking the door on one lap. It didn't budge, of course, but the echoing clang felt satisfying somehow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is your doing, isn’t it Benrey? You’re doing this shit on purpose, huh?” his voice got louder and louder until he was shouting into the air, breathing ragged. “I’m on this god damn quest to come rescue your sorry ass and yet you’re still fucking dead set on ruining whatever shreds of a life I had? It wasn’t enough for me to go through hell and back, was it?” Gordon peered over the platform railing into the inky abyss. He laughed to himself, breathy and manic. “Alright then. You get your wish.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In one smooth motion, Gordon vaulted over the railing and began to freefall. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! I'm rereading these chapters as I post them and I'm kinda realizing how slow they feel. When I wrote this, I basically blacked out at some point and then it was sitting in my google drive so thanks for sticking with me.</p><p>Come yell at me @black-mesa-power-legs on tumblr!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Admin Permissions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You know, I was gonna space out chapter releases more but I'm impatient! So here's this</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dr. Coomer roamed the dusty halls of the deepest parts of Black Mesa. He’d gotten separated from Bubby and Tommy a few teleports ago--not long after they had lost Gordon--but he maintained his usual demeanor. His shotgun hung loosely in his hand, now unnecessary in the dark silence of the labyrinthine facility. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A black portal appeared on the wall to his left with no fanfare. Had he been a less observant man, he might have walked right past it. Without hesitating, he stepped through. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dr. Coomer found himself in a room most unlike anything he had ever seen. It had four walls and a floor, but a roof that gave way to an infinite white mist. Guns, ammo, claymores, and nearly every other weapon the science team had encountered on their trek through Black Mesa were set out in neat rows on tables around the perimeter of the room. He thoughtfully ran his fingers over a pistol barrel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“you’re not supposed to be in here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Coomer lifted his head towards the source of the voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, hello Benrey!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The security guard gave him a small nod of acknowledgement but almost immediately shifted in his position sitting on a table and returned his gaze to the place where a ceiling would normally be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“pretty cool though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes it is quite exciting! Normally, no amount of Playcoins would be able to grant access in here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“it’s ‘cause i got the-uh- the key.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is this where you’ve been hiding?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“nah. you wanna play PS3? i got some pretty--pretty cool games for it."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'd love to, but I really should get back to Gordon and the others. You wouldn't happen to know where they are, would you?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"nope."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So, you aren't the one controlling the portals, then?" Coomer looked up from the weapons and trained his gaze on Benrey. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"wuh?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh dear." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"you guys should go back. it’s-there’s-you don’t have the credentials." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Benrey." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guard's gaze flickered over to Coomer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know you didn't want to."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"huh?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"As much as we'd like to, sometimes we can't jump the track of fate."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Benrey turned towards Coomer a bit more, staring at him, unblinking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was silent for a moment. The soft white mist swirled above their heads, giving the room a somewhat ethereal feel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"...fuckin feetman had to come in with-- with his dick out and no passport just…ruining shit."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Coomer nodded sagely, as if it made perfect sense. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"i didn't wanna be bad, but i gotta be bad." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's alright. We'll find a way out of this."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"why'd i have to be bad? just wanted to play-- to play PS3 with my friends," Benrey asked in an uncharacteristically quiet voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We'll find a way." Coomer repeated. "If you look at your mini map, does it say where you are?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"wuh?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Coomer blinked a few times and shook his head almost imperceptibly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We're coming, don't worry." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Benrey had already turned his face back to the fog sky. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Gordon shot out of a portal like it was a cannon, sliding across smooth concrete flooring and careening into a wall. He hit at an angle, jostling his already injured shoulder and just barely clipping the side of his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But still, he picked himself up off the ground and, finding himself back in the halls of Black Mesa, began to run.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took turns at random, adrenaline and anger telling him to ignore the burning in his lungs, to just keep running until something changed. Something had to give, right?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon ran through room after room, sometimes dipping through a portal, but never slowing. He sprinted through the tram rails, the pita room, the Wikipedia server rooms, and even past the missile silo. The haunting emptiness showed no signs of life, his own labored breathing and heavy footsteps the only sound to pierce the silence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seeing all the locations he’d been to with the Science Team--these people he had just kind of accepted as friends--only added to Gordon’s mounting frustration. The rooms looked familiar, inspiring brief flashes of the memories he’d made with his team, but they felt wrong somehow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anxiety rested heavy in Gordon’s stomach, the crowding thoughts and questions not helping the edges of black that were beginning to creep into Gordon’s vision. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He ran harder, praying that the rushing blood and reverberating heartbeat would drown out the screaming in his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon distantly registered that he was ejected from a portal, turned a hard corner, and sprinted up a set of metal stairs that clanged underneath his boots that were in no way fit for running.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite being somewhat of a jock--a fact that the rest of the science team teased him for--exhaustion was starting to take its toll on Gordon. Even his brain was tired, clinging desperately to the single minded drive of making something, anything, make sense. His own heavy footsteps drowned out the sound of several soda cans manifesting into the material world, right underneath his feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If Gordon had been more coherent, or had a faster reaction time, he might have been able to catch himself when one of the cans slid under his boot and sent him tipping head first into the stairs. His forehead slammed into the staircase, bouncing against the metal faster than he could get an arm up to catch himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The world went white.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Gordon came to, he was lying at the bottom of the stairs, forehead throbbing. Groaning, he threw an arm over his eyes and just lay on the ground. His heart was still in his throat, deafening him with its consistent yet rapid beating.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At least it was still beating though. Mark one in the win column. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Freeman! Are you alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon gave a weak thumbs up with the arm that wasn’t draped over his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He peeked around his arm and up into Tommy’s very worried face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah man, I’m...I’m good,” Gordon replied, trying and failing to put a little more energy into his voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wh-what happened? I got separated from the others so I’m glad to see you but-uh-you might have a concussion…” Tommy started looking around the room for a medkit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon contemplated getting off the floor but decided against it, just letting his arm slide back over his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been running all over this godforsaken facility just hoping to make any amount of progress but as far as I know, I’ve just been wasting time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy returned, cracking a cold pack and shaking it before gingerly pushing aside his arm and laying the cold pack on the darkening red spot on his forehead. . </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s about what I’ve been doing,” Tommy said, settling onto the floor beside Gordon. “If I can find Dr. Coomer though, I think that I can-I can maybe do something.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Gordon finally opened his eyes fully, turning his head towards Tommy. “That would be awesome, I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy just cocked his head, concerned, but let Gordon keep talking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It just...the more of this shit I run through, the less things make sense and I feel like I’m losing my mind, but I have to keep it together or else I’ll just go way off the deep end.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well...what’s been bothering you? The most--at least.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Things just don’t add up! I told you guys I had a son but where is he? I think I told Benrey I had been working here for many years when he asked for my passport, but I’m only 27! It all feels like someone jammed my brain in a blender and then poured it back in.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy winced at the imagery. “I’m sorry, Mr. Freeman. This whole situation is pretty fucked up and you’ve gotten the worst of it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Somehow, that makes me feel better. Just knowing I’m not losing my marbles here is...comforting.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How’s your head?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hurts.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you nauseous or dizzy at all?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eh, no more nauseous than usual.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think you have a concussion at least, so that’s good.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yaaay,” Gordon deadpanned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you sit up? Or should we--should we chill on the floor here for a while?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can do it. Probably.” Gordon groaned with the effort, worn out and sore now that the sheer rage that had propelled him through the halls previously had worn off. He waved Tommy off, who reached out to help as he sat up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon kept one hand on the ice pack that was plastered to his head, but managed to get into a position that could feasibly be called vertical. He glanced around the room that he found himself in, quickly realizing that this had been the place where Coomer’s clones had attacked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Damn. This is the second time you’ve had to save my ass in here, Tommy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s all instinct, Mr. Freeman.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You got good instincts, man.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy smiled a little. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Coomer--or one of the clones--was saying some freaky shit when we saw them, right? Something about there being a world in my dreams...what the hell was that about?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe it has something to do with the--with your blender brain problem.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, maybe. God knows we won’t get a straight answer out of Coomer.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon habitually ran his hands through the haphazard strands of hair that had escaped his ponytail, putting the ice pack down for just long enough to pull the rebellious strands back into some semblance of order. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Gordon shifted to get his legs underneath him. “Let’s see if we can’t find the rest of the science team.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy sprang to his feet, offering a hand to steady Gordon as he laboriously hauled himself off the ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Man, you’re older than me and still in better shape? I need to get my shit together.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I walk Sunkist a lot. You should come walk with us sometime!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon chuckled softly. “You know, I might take you up on that.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy and Gordon kept up the trek through portals, albeit at a much slower pace than either of them had been going at before. They stayed in comfortable silence, Gordon using most of his energy to focus on not beefing it again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a few rounds of portalling, Tommy and Gordon found themselves in the Biological Research department, staring at a very pissed off Bubby who had somehow managed to get put back in his tube. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gordon! Get me out of here!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trying not to laugh, Gordon pushed the button to release the glass and Bubby stepped out, brushing imaginary dirt off his shoulder and glowering.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“About fuckin’ time. I went through a portal and got put back in my tube like half an hour ago!” He glared at Gordon like it had been his fault. “Can’t have shit in Black Mesa,” he mumbled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, I was real busy receiving another head injury.” Gordon motioned to the darkening spot on his forehead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh well done. You two haven’t seen Coomer anywhere I’m guessing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not yet,” Tommy replied. “I found Mr. Freeman but he was the first person I saw after I lost the rest of the group.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well let’s fucking go then; he better not be having any fun without us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon huffed a little laugh and trailed after Bubby, who had already begun power walking away.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>In a bit of a poetic moment, the place that the Science Team finally converged was the Lambda Lab, just outside their top-secret room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Gordon!” came a voice from directly behind the group. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon jumped involuntarily, whipping around to see Dr. Coomer who had managed to sneak up on them in a very uncharacteristically quiet moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There you are! Good to see ya, Dr. Coomer.” Gordon clapped a hand on Coomer’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Likewise, Gordon!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Great, now we’ve got everyone...how in the fuck are we going to fix the world falling apart around us?” Bubby interjected, arms crossed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, did any of you guys have weird experiences while you were separated? ‘Cause I got my ass kicked for the most part. And the PA system said some shit about a passport.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No! I got put in my tube again, but that’s it.” Bubby still looked more pissed off than usual.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I went to a weird underground dry dock at one point but nothing else really happened,” Tommy replied. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I got to see a very special staff only room!” Coomer chimed in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What does that mean? A staff only room? Like, Black Mesa staff only?” Gordon inched a little closer to Coomer, interested. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Staff only, Gordon! It had many guns inside.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon stared deep into Coomer’s eyes, trying to discern what he wasn’t saying. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Normally, you need admin level permissions to access the staff room!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Admin level permissions? What the hell does that mean?” Gordon resisted the urge to grab Coomer’s shoulders and start shaking him like a vending machine that a snack had gotten stuck in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Means what it means, Gordon,” Bubby interjected, nonchalantly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon took a deep breath. “Right. Anyway. What are we going to do?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If Dr. Coomer got into the staff room, then I think I might have an idea, but I don’t know for sure if it will work…” Tommy said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...Well?” Bubby tapped a foot impatiently. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy shuffled nervously in place for a second before motioning Coomer over and whispering in his ear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Coomer thought for a moment, the blank yet pleasant expression still on his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good thinking Dr. Tommy! You and I can use the computers in the Lambda Lab and Gordon and Bubby can find a way into the chamber.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy and Coomer immediately split off from the group and began murmuring to each other as they turned their attention to the computers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait what the hell is--nevermind. Okay Bubby, guess it’s you and me. Any ideas about getting into the chamber?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We could always blast through the door.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why was that your first thought? There’s not a button or a switch somewhere?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The biometrics wouldn’t let us through. So we’re going to break it,” Bubby replied, as if it was obvious. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, okay, with what though? I’m fairly sure we don't have anything that could break through a foot of metal.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bubby frowned at that. “We don’t even have a crowbar. Damn it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon rubbed his arm, feeling useless. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...What kind of metal do you think that is?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How the hell should I know?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, what do you suppose its melting point is, then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon scrunched up his face and slowly turned to Bubby who was staring at the door with a manic glint in his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“High. Very high.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I could--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely not,” Gordon interrupted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bubby turned and scowled at Gordon. “Way to ruin a man’s dreams.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s physically no way you would melt that door before we were all barbequed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tch, whatever, Doctor Killjoy.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right. Well, arson aside, there’s gotta be some other way to get it open. You’d probably need a nuke to make a dent in the door, and even then it might hold. I don’t even think we could pry it open.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>couldn’t.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon eyed Bubby, who was a solid four inches shorter than him and forty pounds lighter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah…right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two scientists sat and bickered over the door for a while as the other half of the team was hard at work with their research. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy,” Coomer said, not looking up from his work, “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Gordon, but I saw Benrey in the staff room.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy’s hands froze over the keyboard. “You did?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes. I don’t think he was physically there, but it means that he’s likely somewhere equally as inaccessible.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Which means…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Gordon will likely have to be the one to get him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy inhaled sharply and grimaced. “I--do you think he’ll do it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure. He’s a bit volatile sometimes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-I’ve been trying to tell him that Benrey isn’t so bad, that he should give him a chance...but I don’t think he took me seriously.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He doesn’t know the whole situation. I just hope he’ll listen to Benrey for long enough to get an explanation.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Could we try to-to warn him ahead of time? Just so it’s not a total shock?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think we can.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy opened his mouth to try to reason with Coomer, but he was cut off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think we physically can. Even if we already defeated the final boss.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy just nodded silently and looked back down to his work.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a long pause.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad we can do this, at least. The-the little bit we can help with.” Tommy snuck a glance at Gordon, who had one foot braced on the wall and was tugging at the biometrics scanner with both hands. Bubby watched on in amusement, looking like he was just waiting for Gordon to fall on his ass. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ty so much to y'all for leaving comments! I'm going to print them out and hang them on my fridge</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Troubleshooting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Lil transition chapter! Next one is when we finally get to the good shit</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The front face of the panel finally popped off of the scanner, Gordon just barely catching himself before he was sent careening back onto the floor. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ha! Finally!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nice save,” Bubby said flatly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Gordon replied, missing the point. “Alright. Let’s hack this shit.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They tinkered with the wiring and computer chips for a while, trying to get the scanner to send the acceptance signal that would open the door. Bubby and Gordon alternated shoving the other person’s head out of the way and grabbing at the computer chips. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After a few minutes and only one minor electrocution, the doors finally shuddered and creaked open. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon pumped a fist and let out a quiet noise of celebration.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Across the room, Tommy and Coomer seemed to come to a silent agreement and they stood up, walking over to Gordon and Bubby.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello, Gordon! Nice job with the door.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bubby coughed and gave Coomer a sideways glance. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You too, Dr. Bubby. Tommy and I have made some excellent progress on our hypothesis, all that’s left now is to test it!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you gonna fill us in at some point?” Gordon straightened his back, trying to appear stern.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“In good time, Gordon. It will be easier to show you, I believe.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon frowned a little. “...Fine. Let’s go then, where are we headed?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We need to get back to the alien homeworld! To the boss battle chamber.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” Gordon groaned.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I am not!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“‘Course not.” Gordon paused. “But...if we haven’t seen any alien portals, then do you think the one in the chamber will be there?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe. And if not, then hopefully we will be granted a special portal to where we’re going.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon just sighed in response, adjusting the sweater that was still tied around his waist.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, let’s go...find Benrey, I guess.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With Gordon in the lead, the science team headed into the reactor room. Sure enough, right near the machine’s controls was a black and green portal, waiting like it had been expecting them twenty minutes ago. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It plopped them out on one of the smaller, orbital floating platforms, unfortunately. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon pushed his glasses up onto his forehead to rub his eyes with both hands before waving the rest of the team on, wordlessly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy gave Gordon’s uninjured shoulder a pat and took the lead, followed by Gordon, and then Coomer and Bubby. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They floated in the low gravity, bouncing from platform to platform, with Gordon doing his best to keep up with the much more energetic Tommy. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was breathing hard with the effort of clearing the distances between land masses but not jumping so far as to rocket into the void beyond. He tried to keep his mind on the task at hand, and not where he was headed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They finally landed on one of the larger islands and Gordon paused for a moment, squeezing his shoulder that had started leaking blood under the bandages. Coomer and Bubby passed him while he took his breather, but he gritted his teeth and followed after them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon approached the next set of small islands that marked the path to what Coomer had called the “Boss Battle Chamber” and found Dr. Coomer and Bubby waiting for him, while Tommy kept up his pace. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Coomer gestured with one hand, encouraging Gordon to keep going; he even gave him a reassuring pat on the back. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait. Are you guys babysitting me? You’ve never waited for me before,” Gordon accused. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Coomer started to say something, seemed to give up, and then looked over at Bubby.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. We don’t need your ass falling into the void here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I am perfectly fuckin’ capable of handling a bit of physical activity!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure you are, Doctor Head Trauma.” Bubby motioned to Gordon’s forehead. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Gordon, we just wanted to make sure one of us could catch you in case you beefed it on a jump,” Coomer explained. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh-huh. I’m not sure if I should be touched or offended, honestly.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And that’s what friendship is all about, Gordon!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon shook his head a little, but was smiling in spite of himself. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The three of them caught up to Tommy finally, who was waiting outside one of the tunnels that led to the inner caves. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy smiled at them, but the look had an undercurrent of nervousness. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Science Team trekked together through the upsettingly damp tunnels in relative silence. In the absence of conversation, Gordon had to work a lot harder to keep his general anxiety from getting to the forefront of his mind. He wondered what they would find at the center of the alien world. He wondered what Benrey would say to them, what he’d do. He wondered what would happen afterwards. Would he ever be able to rest easily again, knowing Benrey could show up on his doorstep at any moment? Would he ever be able to rest easily at all? Living in the world that shouldn’t be? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lost in his thoughts, Gordon didn’t even notice when the floor suddenly had a lot more liquid on it until he bumped into Tommy. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon shook his head to clear the brain fog and patted Tommy on the shoulder as a silent apology. He looked up to see that they had reached their destination. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Upon seeing it empty, Gordon let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, we’re here. Now what?” Gordon looked around at his team.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well Gordon, assuming our hypothesis is correct, we will need to pull off a very tricky maneuver known as the ‘Frame Perfect Dodge Roll’. You’ll have to do the maneuver, go into the infinite void below the floor, and get Benrey. Easy!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon squinted at Coomer. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s a lot to unpack there--but why do I have to do this?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Because you’re special Mr. Freeman! If-if any of us tried to get down to the void, we might get stuck too,” Tommy said.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why am I different? What makes me different from you guys?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re the protagonist, Gordon!” Coomer replied, shrugging out of the strap of his gun and holding the stock out to Gordon. “Now, you’ll need this to perform the Dodge Roll.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He hesitantly took the weapon. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay Mr. Freeman, you have to crouch with the gun near one of the walls in this general area-" he waved a hand at a nondescript section of wall," -and press your left shoulder way up close to it. Then, you have to do a forward somersault without hitting yourself in the face with the butt of the gun,” Tommy explained. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Um. Okay. I’ll...try? I guess?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon did as he was told, crouching so close to a wall that he might as well have been inside it and tried to situate himself with the shotgun so he could do a roll. He made sure the safety was on. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He tried to tuck and roll while kicking off the ground, but only succeeded in face planting in the not-water liquid that covered the floors.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A few feet away, Coomer clapped a hand over Bubby’s mouth to keep him from laughing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He tried again. A full roll this time, but he didn’t think that’s what Tommy and Coomer were looking for. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon tried again and again, somersaulting along the wall, feeling the solid stone scrape against his bare arms and seriously starting to doubt the validity of his friends’ theory. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As he was about to give up, tired and thoroughly soaked with alien water, Gordon tucked the gun just right under his arm, pushed off with the perfect amount of power, and clipped straight through the wall. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It felt like nothing, like walking through a projection--though he was positive it had been solid the moment before. He tumbled for a few feet, stopping on some surface he couldn’t see. All around him, Gordon could see some of the walls, others were fully invisible. The rest of the Science Team stared excitedly at the place where he had vanished into the wall, but he couldn’t see the floor they were standing on. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon stood and took a deep breath. He finally allowed his gaze to travel downwards, into the black abyss that seemed to fill the space beneath him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There, motionless in the depths of the void, stood Benrey. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon started to walk towards him. It was weird, walking in the void. Everywhere he stepped was both solid and non-existent at the same time. When his foot was moving, it felt like moving through air, but as soon as he reached a place where he would step, it was solid. It was disorienting, and it took Gordon a lot longer to get down to Benrey than he would care to admit. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He finally planted himself at a spot close enough to reach Benrey and stared for a moment, worried. Benrey was totally still, arms at his sides, eyes open yet unseeing, and a blank expression on his face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon shuddered a little. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He swallowed hard and darted a hand out, digging his fingers into the kevlar security vest.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You ever clip through a game world and the devs have left some weird shit in the space below just cuz they couldn't be asked to remove it? Yeah.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. ERROR</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Benrey thinks about things while trapped in the void.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Benrey didn’t have much to do in the void. Not much he could do, really. After his body had rebelled against him and ceased working entirely, his mind started to follow suit, drowning him in a haze of his own memories. </p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t help but think about Gordon. About the series of events that had landed him in this position. </p><p>
  <br/>
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</p><p>Benrey stood at his post, bored. The morning rush had come and gone, and everyone was already hard at work in their labs or offices. Everyone except for one Gordon Freeman. He was in a hurry, speed walking down the hall to try and make up for his lateness. </p><p> </p><p>Even in a rush, Gordon greeted Benrey on his way past. </p><p> </p><p>Benrey perked up. There he was! He’d been hoping to run into Gordon for some time, but their schedules never quite lined up. As Benrey started after Gordon, eager to reconnect with his old friend, a twinge of something ran up his spine. </p><p> </p><p><em> Hold him up, </em>it said. </p><p> </p><p>Benrey scrambled for a justification, something to halt Gordon. </p><p> </p><p>“can i see your passport?” his brain supplied, unhelpfully. But before Benrey could think of some better excuse, the strange demand was already out of his mouth. </p><p> </p><p>“My passport?” Gordon spluttered, clearly confused. </p><p> </p><p>Some part of Benrey’s mind told him that it wasn’t right, but the louder part assured him that it was. Why would he have said it if it weren’t important? He needed to see that passport. </p><p> </p><p>Benrey insisted on following Gordon, citing something about needing to protect him. The dots didn’t quite connect, but it felt right all the same. That twinge in the back of his neck assured him that he was doing the right thing.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Every second of Gordon’s yelling and ranting at Benrey was more than made up for by the times he laughed. As much as he insisted on hating Benrey, he still laughed when Benrey made an off the wall comment. Every time it happened, Benrey wanted to ask, he wanted to know if Gordon remembered him. But something held him back.</p><p> </p><p>A nagging feeling in his head said, <em> no, you must keep following him. He’s not supposed to be down here </em>. </p><p> </p><p>And Benrey kept quiet. At least, about that. </p><p>
  <br/>
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  <br/>
</p><p><em> This whole thing is his fault, </em>said something that could only vaguely be called a voice. </p><p> </p><p>Benrey stood in the wreckage of the laser network, waiting for Gordon to round the corner like he--somehow--knew he would. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> If he hadn’t been late, this wouldn’t have happened.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Benrey cursed himself. The passports, it must have something to do with the passports. If Gordon had been on time, if he had brought his passport, then they could be playing PS3 together right now, instead of standing in the rubble of their place of employment. </p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t sure why, but Benrey knew that the passport was important. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>He knew the soldiers weren’t at Black Mesa to rescue them. How he knew was a mystery, but he did. He didn’t tell the others. </p><p> </p><p>He also knew where the exit was. He didn’t tell them that, either. But in his own defense, they never asked. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Why did Gordon care so much that Benrey shot at mostly anyone who wasn’t a part of their squad? Didn’t he know that it didn’t matter? Didn’t he know that it wasn’t real? </p><p> </p><p>Benrey wasn’t sure how he knew that it didn’t matter, but he felt it with utmost certainty. </p><p> </p><p>And if it didn’t matter, then what was the harm in a little chaos?</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em> He just has to go into the room. Everything else will happen on its own.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Benrey knew the soldiers were looking for Gordon. He’d been mowing down their men left and right, and they wanted him. </p><p> </p><p>He tried to rationalize with himself. He thought that if the soldiers got a hold of Gordon, roughed him up a bit, maybe even broke the HEV suit, then Gordon would want to go home. They could bail out of Black Mesa and go play video games together. Leave the aliens to the US military. </p><p> </p><p>When they cut off Gordon’s arm, Benrey was stunned. When they pulled that machete out and began to hack at Gordon, he nearly short circuited. He could feel jeers and taunts coming out of his mouth but he wasn’t in control of it.</p><p> </p><p>His brain stuttered, trying and failing to make connections between what was happening in front of him and the things he had thought up until now. </p><p> </p><p>Gordon wasn’t supposed to get hurt, not seriously, anyway. That wasn’t in the plan, it wasn’t supposed to play out like this. </p><p> </p><p>But no matter how much Benrey wanted to jump to Gordon’s rescue, he couldn’t. His body wouldn’t listen. Not even when Gordon’s tear streaked face went slack as he passed out from the pain. Not even as two of the soldiers dragged him away. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It had to be this way. </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
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  <br/>
</p><p>Benrey’s eye twitched involuntarily; the right side of his neck seized up as a half formed thought slipped away. He blinked hard. </p><p> </p><p>When had they gotten here? Where even <em> was </em>here? Benrey looked around the tiny room, oddly covered in wood shrapnel. The Science Team and a loose skeleton had all sprawled out on the dirty concrete--except for Gordon. Gordon, who was watching Benrey with a grimace of disgust on his face. </p><p> </p><p>Benrey wondered what exactly had happened that warranted an expression like that. </p><p> </p><p>He wished Gordon were laughing, instead. He was so much fun when he laughed. </p><p> </p><p>Before he could stop himself, Benrey opened his mouth to voice his confusion.</p><p> </p><p>“hey where’d your...why are we here?”</p><p> </p><p>Gordon stared at him incredulously.</p><p> </p><p>“To sleep?”</p><p> </p><p>Benrey glanced down, avoiding Gordon’s gaze. </p><p> </p><p>“What happened to your arm?” Benrey felt like he should know, he tried to remember, but was met with only static. </p><p> </p><p>Gordon’s snarled, hostility fully visible across his face. Benrey wasn’t always the most observant man, but Gordon might as well have been wearing a fucking sign around his neck.</p><p> </p><p>It sucked. </p><p>
  <br/>
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</p><p>“The timelines are crossing,” Benrey told the Science Team in a fleeting moment of lucidity. </p><p> </p><p><em> You all should turn back, </em> the nagging in his head supplied. <em> It would be best if you all went home. </em></p><p> </p><p>Benrey couldn’t help but agree this time. The sooner they were out of Black Mesa, the better. The room around them shifted and stuttered as they experienced some kind of time anomaly. </p><p>
  <br/>
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</p><p>Who did this clown think he was? Rolling up with his suit and briefcase like he was important or something. Benrey’s thoughts were a little scrambled when it came to what was actually important or not, but he knew this pale ass weirdo wasn’t it. </p><p> </p><p>Suit Creep seemed genuinely surprised by Benrey’s verbal harassment. His smug, knowing smile melted off his face into a look of pure confusion. </p><p> </p><p>It was funny. And even better was the look on Gordon’s face as he watched the exchange, laughing incredulously. </p><p> </p><p>Benrey asked him about Playstation Plus and the man’s expression shifted to one that was almost fear. He left, and Benrey felt a small jolt of satisfaction. Now, if he could just get Gordon to head anywhere but the Lambda Reactor, everything would be perfect. He didn’t even care where they wound up anymore, be it home or even just a few rooms back, anything was better than heading to the reactor. </p><p> </p><p>But something in the pit of Benrey’s stomach told him that the team wouldn’t listen to him. </p><p> </p><p>It stung a little. They were all buddy-buddy about everything, while Benrey was pushed off buildings and ladders, forced to scramble along behind Gordon as he tried to get him to turn back and throw in the towel. </p><p> </p><p>Gordon wouldn’t even give him a chance with the Playstation Plus. Was it so much to ask to play games with your friends?</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em> They’re here to kill you. They’ve done nothing but ignore your warnings all this time.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Here, in Xen, Benrey towered over the Science Team--over his friends. Gordon looked terrified; Benrey frowned at that a little. He desperately wanted to tell him that this wasn’t really him, that there was something more going on, but the words stuck in his throat, no matter how hard he tried to force them out. </p><p> </p><p>“we used to be great friends…” he managed. It took every ounce of effort to even get that out. Those simple words he’d wanted to tell Gordon since the moment they’d met. </p><p> </p><p>And Gordon shot him down. Instantly. Brutally. Unwilling to listen to anything Benrey had to say.</p><p> </p><p>Not that he was particularly surprised. Gordon had done nothing but cut Benrey down at every turn since they began the trek through Black Mesa. He used to be able to brush it off and keep moving, but with every icy glare Gordon threw his way, it became harder and harder. </p><p> </p><p>Gordon didn’t laugh as much as he used to. </p><p> </p><p>Though, that didn’t stop Benrey from taking little jabs at Gordon. They were mostly stupid things, teasing Gordon about his feet or even just hovering above the group and taking pictures. </p><p> </p><p>Benrey watched as the team slipped into the caves of the alien world. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Find them. They can’t be allowed to continue.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>And Benrey listened. </p><p> </p><p>The Science Team ran, terror evident on their faces. Benrey almost wanted to stop, wanted to let them go just so he wouldn’t have to listen as they called him a monster. </p><p> </p><p>But he couldn’t. </p><p> </p><p>With his last remaining shred of free will, Benrey tried one last time to convince his friends to go home. They could still turn around and leave the hellscape behind them. </p><p> </p><p>But they didn’t. </p><p> </p><p>Of course. </p><p> </p><p>Looming over his so-called friends in what he felt for certain was the final chamber, Benrey felt the need to talk, so he did. Every little thing that came to his mind came out his mouth. Some things were products of his growing irritation with the team, some of them were completely nonsensical.</p><p> </p><p>Not missing an opportunity to mess with Gordon, Benrey did manage to accuse him of having his dick out when they first saw one another; that got an excellent reaction from him. </p><p> </p><p>But mostly, Benrey felt angry. Anger bubbled up from somewhere deep inside him, but he could only guess what the cause of it was. He accused Gordon of ruining his plans, of forcing his hand into resorting to all this. </p><p> </p><p>He told Gordon that he was supposed to be good, but he’d been forced to be bad. </p><p> </p><p>Even as he said it, he wasn’t sure what exactly had forced him to be bad, but something did. Maybe it was Gordon’s constant yelling and dismissal of him. Maybe it was the sting of being excited to see someone from your past, only to have them hate you. Maybe it was the hurt of not even being given a chance.</p><p> </p><p>Benrey felt his control slip a bit more.</p><p> </p><p>The entire room descended into chaos as skeletons wielding the Black Mesa Sweet Voice whirled around and the Science Team fired ineffectual bullets at them and Benrey. </p><p> </p><p>But they wouldn’t give up. The team fled through portal after portal and destroyed their own passports to break through whatever mystical power protected Benrey (he knew they’d been important somehow).</p><p> </p><p>He wanted to reach out for them, stop them from reaching even just one of the passports, delay what he assumed was the end for just a bit longer. </p><p> </p><p>His body wouldn’t listen. He flew in and out of walls, flailing around in what he could only assume was a truly horrifying display. </p><p> </p><p>After Gordon destroyed his passport, something in the air shifted. His body felt heavy and solid all of a sudden. </p><p> </p><p>And then the gunfire came. </p><p> </p><p>Unlike before, the bullets ripped through Benrey’s body. And they hurt.</p><p> </p><p>Hurt in a way Benrey had never felt before. Hurt in a way that was more than physical. They hurt because Benrey knew with absolute certainty that this was it. </p><p> </p><p>This was the end of the road. They’d reached a conclusion, and Benrey wouldn’t be in the epilogue. </p><p> </p><p>Benrey still did his best to keep the Science Team at bay, but without the passport shields, it was a losing battle. </p><p> </p><p><em> It’s time to go </em>, insisted the voice in his head. </p><p> </p><p>He was almost relieved. </p><p> </p><p>And, so, Benrey let go. He got one last glimpse of Gordon’s face, splattered with blood and marred by rage.</p><p> </p><p>He wished he hadn’t looked. </p><p>
  <br/>
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</p><p>Then, things were dark for a long time. An unconscionably long time. An eternity. Or maybe it hadn’t been that long, and Benrey was just bored. He got lost in the brain fog that the abyss brought, and that was fine. He knew that this was just how things were. He’d followed the script down to the letter. He hadn’t been strong enough to jump the course of the narrative, none of them had. Though Benrey doubted any of the others knew as much as he did. </p><p> </p><p>Benrey was abruptly jolted out of the comforting numbness by a hand that tangled itself in his vest, jerking him from the spot he’d been frozen in. He felt a second hand wrap around his shoulders, tugging him close to something solid and warm. His eyes squeezed shut; he hadn’t realized they’d been open. </p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t until the manhandling stopped and Benrey could feel a solid surface underneath him that Benrey let himself believe that this was real and not some fucked up product of his mind finally clocking out. </p><p> </p><p>His eyes slid open. He was still in Xen, still in the same room he had fought the Science Team in; but this time, Tommy was crouched next to him, a gentle hand on his shoulder. Gordon stood over him, peering down with a look of concern mixed with discomfort. Bubby and Coomer hovered nearby as well, varying levels of interest on their faces. </p><p> </p><p>“nice tank top, feetman. you lose the hev suit or somethin?” The words had spilled out before he could really process what they were, and now they were just...out there. Gordon glared at him. </p><p> </p><p>“Great, good to see you’re not any more brain dead than usual.”</p><p> </p><p>Gordon’s hostility hit different, this time. He looked impatient, like he had some important appointment that Benrey was actively keeping him from. </p><p> </p><p>“yeah, don’t worry. i’m a lot more durable than you lil-little baby--chicken head.”</p><p> </p><p>Gordon just shook his head, still staring down at Benrey. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy glanced between the two of them, nervously. “Um, maybe we should go somewhere else? It’s very soggy here…”</p><p> </p><p>“i got you, man.” Benrey sat up, trying to reacquaint his body with the act of moving. He flexed his fingers, twisted his torso a little, then popped upright, offering a hand to Tommy. </p><p> </p><p>Benrey brushed himself off--more for show than anything--and summoned a portal without any fanfare. Just a brief moment of concentration and it appeared on the wall. </p><p> </p><p>They all filed in, Benrey resisting the urge to make some comment to Gordon. His mind was still foggy, a cocktail of a thousand emotions that didn’t have names or explanations. He wished Gordon wouldn’t look at him like that. The disdain in his eyes, the coldness. </p><p> </p><p>Benrey wondered if he could fix it. He wondered if Gordon would laugh at him ever again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Fun fact but I wrote this chapter and the next one with the same song on repeat for god knows how long.</p><p>Anyway! You guys are so sweet for leaving me comments, I stare at them all the time and it just makes me so happy that people like this weird meta thing that appeared in my documents one day</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. /dev/null</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The portal plopped them out in a grassy park surrounded by neatly trimmed trees and picturesque iron benches. Gordon raised a hand to his eyes, shading them from the aggressive daylight. </p><p> </p><p>He glanced around, trying to get his bearings. He’d never been to this park before--at least, not that he could remember. The list of things that Gordon could remember for certain was depressingly short. There were things he felt like he <em> should </em>remember, but when he pressed a little harder on those thoughts, he came up blank. </p><p> </p><p>“Where is this?” Gordon asked the rest of the team, hoping they’d know. </p><p> </p><p>They all shrugged, looking equally as confused.</p><p> </p><p>“Where’d you drop us, Benrey?”</p><p> </p><p>“whuh? oh uh, beats me. it’s-it’s the only teleport location in the city that i could think of.”</p><p> </p><p>“But you were pulling us from all over the goddamn place earlier!”</p><p> </p><p>Benrey cocked his head and furrowed his eyebrows, about as close to an expression as he ever got. </p><p> </p><p>“Don’t play dumb. You were summoning those portals and making us go on a fuckin’...speedrun of Black Mesa just so we could come rescue your sorry ass.”</p><p> </p><p>Benrey just shrugged in response. </p><p> </p><p>“Ugh, never mind. I thought you might be a <em> little </em>more helpful since we came all that way to find you, but if you want to be a jackass then there's nothing new there.” Gordon turned away from the group and started looking for any kind of landmarks that might let him figure out where they were--particularly where they were in relationship to the Cadillac. </p><p> </p><p>“...didn’t ask you to.”</p><p> </p><p>“Excuse me?” Gordon slowly turned to face him. </p><p> </p><p>“i didn’t ask you to come get me.”</p><p> </p><p>“You were fuckin’ up the world! Just like you apparently fuck up everything you touch,” Gordon snarled. </p><p> </p><p>“Ouch...” Bubby whispered to Coomer. </p><p> </p><p>Benrey just narrowed his eyes at Gordon and then turned away. </p><p> </p><p>“And that! You don’t listen to fuckin’ anyone, even if they’re trying to help your sorry ass. <em> Especially </em>if they’re trying to help you.”</p><p> </p><p>“nyehnyeehneh,” Benrey mocked, still not looking at Gordon. </p><p> </p><p>“Do you exist just to make my life hell? Is that it?”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy stepped forward, about to intervene, but Bubby put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head firmly.</p><p> </p><p>“why are you so mad? it’s-it’s not like any of this matters.”</p><p> </p><p>Gordon stared at him. “Doesn’t matter? Doesn’t <em> matter </em>?! What about this doesn’t matter? It’s my fuckin’ life, man!”</p><p> </p><p>“whatever. let’s go so you can get back to your-your important lil’ life.”</p><p> </p><p>“And what are you gonna do? You gonna go back to wrecking shit like you were earlier? Or like it was in Black Mesa?”</p><p> </p><p>“don’t need to.”</p><p> </p><p>“That doesn’t help your case at all.” Gordon crossed his arms over his chest, trying to keep the small remainder of cool that he still had.</p><p> </p><p>“what’s your problem,” Benrey said flatly, finally looking over his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“My problem? MY problem?” Gordon balled his fists, digging his short fingernails into his palm.</p><p> </p><p>“yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>“Um, I don’t know, maybe the fact that you opened portals to an alien world, got hundreds of people killed, got my ARM cut off, and tried to kill all of us!”</p><p> </p><p>“well you did kill me so we-we’re even.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, that <em> definitely </em>evens the score.” Gordon threw his hands up in the air.</p><p> </p><p>“yeah man, so calm down.”</p><p> </p><p>“Calm down? Calm DOWN?” </p><p> </p><p>The rest of the Science Team could practically see Gordon’s tenuous grip on sanity finally snap.</p><p> </p><p>“How’s this for calm?!” </p><p> </p><p>Faster than Benrey could register what was happening, Gordon had slammed into him, shoulder first, and sent them both tumbling to the ground. </p><p> </p><p>Benrey scrambled to right himself but Gordon was still faster, lunging forward and pinning one of his shoulders to the ground, other hand raised in a fist. </p><p> </p><p>He paused when he saw the look of resigned acceptance on Benrey’s face. </p><p> </p><p>A beat of silence as they stayed frozen. </p><p> </p><p>“why’d you come get me?” Benrey asked, almost too quiet to hear, like he was struggling to get the words out. </p><p> </p><p>Gordon lowered his hand, breath heavy.</p><p> </p><p>“why bother? you don’t want me here.”</p><p> </p><p>“You...we had to. I couldn’t let you fuck up whatever shreds of life I have left.”</p><p> </p><p>“...didn’t mean to,” Benrey mumbled, trying to look away from Gordon, who was still hovering over him. </p><p> </p><p>“What does that mean? You didn’t mean to?”</p><p> </p><p>“it’s like i said earlier...i didn’t wanna be bad but you--it--i gotta be bad.”</p><p> </p><p>Gordon shook his head, feeling the fight drain from him; he finally released Benrey and stood up.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re unbelievable, you know that? You’re an anomaly.”</p><p> </p><p>“ouch man, that’s pretty mean to say to your friend.” Benrey sat up, ruefully rubbing his shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>“We aren’t friends.”</p><p> </p><p>“we used to be. we used to play in the mud-in the sand together.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re making shit up, that never happened.”</p><p> </p><p>“nah it was totally real. i have like the best--a super good memory.”</p><p> </p><p>Gordon took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with one hand.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t have the energy for this. Let’s just find the fuckin’ car and go home.”</p><p> </p><p>Benrey almost frowned at that. He was silent for a few blissful moments.</p><p> </p><p>“ok but i can prove it. i can show you...and then you owe me four dollars.”</p><p> </p><p>Gordon took a deep breath and steepled his fingers. He opened his mouth to shoot Benrey down, but paused when he saw the look in his eyes. Though ‘look’ was almost too strong of a word. Benrey’s eyes shone with just a hint--a shimmer--of desperation. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy’s words echoed in Gordon’s head. He’d insisted that Benrey wasn’t as bad as he seemed.</p><p> </p><p>“....Alright. What fucking ever, this might as well happen. Show me, prove it.”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy leaned down to Coomer, eyes still trained on the contest of wills going on in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>“Can he do that? Is-is that possible?”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“It’s probably a Cutscene, Tommy!” </p><p> </p><p>Benrey squeezed his eyes shut, thinking. He was still for what felt like a long time, then his eyes popped back open and he lunged for Gordon, grabbing his hand. Gordon flailed in surprise but Benrey held firm. He muttered something inaudible under his breath and the pair blinked out of existence. </p><p><br/>
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</p><p>For a brief second, there was nothing below Gordon’s feet. He felt the ground re-materialize below him and he staggered a bit. Abruptly aware that Benrey was still holding his hand, he yanked it back.</p><p> </p><p>“Little warning next time?!” </p><p> </p><p>“i thought you were ready. i’m about to blow your whole mind here--you’re gonna-you better hang onto your socks.”</p><p> </p><p>Gordon rolled his eyes a little, taking in the place they had appeared in. Tall oak trees with sunlight filtering through the branches surrounded them on all sides, their fallen leaves crunching softly beneath their feet. The heat of the day was mercifully lessened by the shade. Gordon could hear running water--a stream, perhaps--somewhere in the distance. </p><p> </p><p>“Where--”</p><p> </p><p>Benrey cut him off, shushing him and pointing towards the edge of the forest. </p><p> </p><p>Two young boys, maybe nine or ten, were engaged in a fierce sword fight with branches. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s no use! You are strong, but I am stronger!” yelled one with a rat’s nest of curly hair that had mostly escaped its ponytail. </p><p> </p><p>The other one--who wore a wool hat, despite the heat--just grinned, doubling down on his swings. </p><p> </p><p>Gordon frowned and started to walk towards them, vaguely noticing that Benrey was following close behind. </p><p> </p><p>The boys crashed their ‘swords’ together, each of them perfectly parrying the other’s strikes. When Gordon had almost reached their battleground, the tides of the fight turned. </p><p> </p><p>Branches crossed, each boy pushing with all his might against the other, the two were almost face to face, grinning manically. </p><p> </p><p>“Give it up! Live to fight another day,” the ponytail boy demanded. </p><p> </p><p>The other one seemed to consider this for a moment, still pushing against his friend.</p><p> </p><p>“nah,” he replied simply. </p><p> </p><p>All at once, the boy in the hat dropped his branch and stepped to the side, letting the other boy’s momentum send him staggering forward. He took advantage of the loss of balance, lunging low and wrapping his arms around his friend’s waist, taking them both down to the ground. </p><p> </p><p>The boy with the ponytail let out a soft oof as his back landed on the grass and then his friend landed on him. </p><p> </p><p>They both laughed, playfully shoving each other. </p><p> </p><p>“Alright, you win this one, Ben,” the boy with the ponytail conceded, sitting up. </p><p> </p><p>“nice. i knew i’d get you--you had to crack some time,” Ben replied from the ground. </p><p> </p><p>“As if! Most sword fights don’t let you tackle people, so you’re lucky I’m giving you the win.”</p><p> </p><p>“don’t be too jealous of-of my awesome fighting skills.” Ben sat up finally. He reached over and delicately pulled a leaf out of his friend’s hair. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, thanks. Is there any more? It always gets so tangled…”</p><p> </p><p>“uhhh i don’t know, let me look.” Ben got up on his knees and shuffled around so he was sitting behind his friend. He tugged the hair tie out and gently combed his fingers through the tangled mess of hair. When he felt he’d done a thorough enough inspection, he pulled the mess back into a loose approximation of a ponytail. </p><p> </p><p>“there. all good over here.” He patted his friend’s back, indicating that the job was done and fell back into the grass, arms crossed behind his head.</p><p> </p><p>The boy turned around and smiled widely at his friend. </p><p> </p><p>“Thanks man, you’re the best.”</p><p> </p><p>“haha yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>His friend flicked his shin.</p><p> </p><p>“oh and you’re pretty cool too, i guess.”</p><p> </p><p>The boy with the ponytail just laughed, clearly familiar with this game. </p><p> </p><p>Gordon watched the tranquil scene with equal parts interest and confusion. Obviously Benrey was showing him real evidence of them having been friends in the past, but why was he still drawing a blank?</p><p> </p><p>A distant voice rang out over the summer afternoon, disturbing the peace. The boy with the ponytail--young Gordon--whipped his head towards the source of the noise. He groaned.</p><p> </p><p>“Aw man, that’s my mom calling. I gotta go.”</p><p> </p><p>“laaaaame.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I know.” He made no move to get up, just turned back to look at his friend and pouted. “She wants me to come pack for our trip.”</p><p> </p><p>Ben just nodded, sitting back up and brushing grass off the back of his hat. </p><p> </p><p>“We’re going on some stupid road trip, so I won’t be able to play for a week.”</p><p> </p><p>“yeah, i know. try not to miss me too much.” Ben huffed a quiet laugh, sounding a little forced. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s gonna be so boring. But I’ll see you when I get back, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“you got it. i’ll-i’ll see you later then.”</p><p> </p><p>Young Gordon started to stand up but at the last second, flung himself on his friend, wrapping his arms around the other boy’s shoulders. Ben looked stunned for a second before his brain caught up with the rest of him and he returned the hug, burying his face in Gordon’s neck. </p><p> </p><p>The boys parted ways, with Ben sitting in the grass staring after Gordon as he ran home. He sat there for a few minutes, mostly unmoving, before he got up, brushed his pants off, and wandered away. </p><p> </p><p>“and then you-you totally bailed on me,” Benrey said, jolting Gordon out of his reverie. “so i guess you’re just- you've always been mean to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Benrey...I…” Gordon fumbled for words. “As much as I believe this happened, I don’t have any memory of it.”</p><p> </p><p>“wow, forget your best friend so easily?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t have memories of...anything.”</p><p> </p><p>Benrey’s eyes widened a bit. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t remember where I grew up, I apparently went to MIT and got a doctorate, but I don’t remember any of it. The only things I can really recall are the things that happened in Black Mesa, and even then, it's…fuzzy.”</p><p> </p><p>“huh.” </p><p> </p><p>“But, this might have still happened? I think?” Gordon sighed, swallowing the desire to clam up about the whole thing. “I don’t know what to think, really.”</p><p> </p><p>“yeah.” Benrey sat down in the grass and went quiet. </p><p> </p><p>Gordon felt awkward hovering over Benrey, so he sat too, idly picking at the grass. </p><p> </p><p>“So, I’m...sorry...I guess.”</p><p> </p><p>Benrey took a deep breath. “no...it makes sense. i should have seen it coming-should have known.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wait, what do you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“it’s just one of those things that-that doesn’t change. no matter what.”</p><p> </p><p>“That doesn’t explain anything.”</p><p> </p><p>“it just is! certain things are supposed to-they’re scripted to happen and you-you can’t get around them.”</p><p> </p><p>“How many of these scripted things do you know about?” Gordon asked, curious against his better judgement.</p><p> </p><p>“mm, some. didn’t know about being bad until i-until it was too late.”</p><p> </p><p>“What about my arm? Did you know about that?” An accusatory tone crept into Gordon’s voice. </p><p> </p><p>Benrey’s head snapped up, looking away from the dirt he’d been staring at. “that wasn’t--i didn’t--it went too far. i didn’t know they were going to do that.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you really couldn’t do anything about the hell we went through?”</p><p> </p><p>“nope. brain wouldn’t let me,” he sighed. </p><p> </p><p>“Did the others know?”</p><p> </p><p>“not as much. i’ve got some-some-a bit more power than them.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right.” Gordon looked up at the cheerful blue sky, stared at the puffy clouds that floated by. “This is pretty fucked up.”</p><p> </p><p>“yeah. dunno why you’d have set things that happen but then let-let the people involved think about it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Pretty fucked up.” Gordon repeated. </p><p> </p><p>It was quiet for a moment; neither of them looked at each other.</p><p> </p><p>“So, now what? That guy, Tommy’s dad...I guess...told us that it was over. He said that you’d been ‘dealt with’ and that we’d never see you again.”</p><p> </p><p>“damn, that’s rude.”</p><p> </p><p>“But, like, are we still stuck in the script? Or are we free now?”</p><p> </p><p>“i-i’m not sure.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe that’s a good sign. If you don’t know anymore, maybe we did manage to break free.”</p><p> </p><p>“yeah, maybe,” Benrey replied, a hint of wistful desire surfacing in his voice.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>They sat in silence for a while, Gordon trying to process this new information without losing the rest of his mind. </p><p> </p><p>“Well...no use sitting around here. Let’s get back to the other guys.” Gordon stood and offered a hand to Benrey. </p><p> </p><p>“whuh?”</p><p> </p><p>“Come on.”</p><p> </p><p>Benrey accepted the help and let Gordon pull him off the ground. He kept a hold of his hand and focused for a second, sending them back to the park where the rest of the science team were waiting. </p><p> </p><p>“About time!” Bubby scolded as soon as they materialized. “We found the car, but Tommy wouldn’t let me leave you here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, Tommy,” Gordon nodded at the other man, a subtle gesture of his appreciation. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy just smiled in response, turning to follow Bubby, who was already making his way across the park, Coomer in tow.</p><p> </p><p>Gordon and Benrey stood for a moment, not moving. Gordon looked over at Benrey for some kind of confirmation, but abruptly realized that they were still holding hands. </p><p> </p><p>He slipped his hand out of Benrey’s grasp, suddenly feeling shy for a reason he couldn’t quite pinpoint. </p><p> </p><p>Benrey shook his head a little, snapping out of where he’d been zoned out. </p><p> </p><p>Gordon started walking after the rest of the group, jerking his head in their direction, inviting Benrey to follow. </p><p> </p><p>The security guard half jogged to catch up with Gordon's longer strides. </p><p> </p><p>Gordon rifled through his pockets for a moment, before producing the item he was looking for, which he held out to Benrey.</p><p> </p><p>“Here.”</p><p> </p><p>“huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s the four dollars I owe you. You showed me what you said you would.”</p><p> </p><p>Benrey blinked owlishly at him, taking the offered money before his brain could catch up to what was happening. </p><p> </p><p>Seeing the wheels turning, Gordon resisted the urge to laugh. </p><p> </p><p>“oh hell yeah. i guess you’re not so bad, gordon. i can let you slide this one time.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure, sure,” Gordon shook his head, but was smiling anyway. It took him a second to realize that Benrey had called him by his name, but he decided not to say anything about it.</p><p> </p><p>“can we get fries? i got four dollars that i-that’re needing to be spent on fries.”</p><p> </p><p>“Take that up with Bubby, he’s driving.”</p><p> </p><p>Benrey seemed to accept that, and tucked the bills away into his pocket. </p><p> </p><p>Already back at the car, Bubby honked the horn aggressively, urging the two stragglers to pick up the pace. Gordon obliged, eager to get home and maybe get some real sleep. </p><p> </p><p>Slowly, something dawned on Gordon.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, did you like, live in Black Mesa?”</p><p> </p><p>“i--”</p><p> </p><p>Benrey seemed to realize the same thing Gordon did. His brows furrowed a bit. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, since we fucked Black Mesa, I guess you can crash with me for a few days.”</p><p> </p><p>“oh shit-hell yeah. you got games at your place?”</p><p> </p><p>Gordon just laughed, feeling lighter somehow. </p><p> </p><p>Benrey would do anything to hear that laugh every day.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And that's it!! Thank you so much for reading! For anyone who left kudos or a comment, I love you and I owe you my life. Huge shoutouts again to the people in the discord who read this first and and gave me the courage to post it.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! Check me out on tumblr <a href="https://black-mesa-power-legs.tumblr.com/">here</a> if you'd like to come yell at me!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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